


Composition

by Oceanbreeze7



Series: A Study in Galran Anatomy [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, BAMF Keith (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Humor, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith beats everyone up, Military Training, Regris is a bad influence, Tailed Keith, Team Voltron Family, Team as Family, blade of marmora, misunderstood body language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 09:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13633302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanbreeze7/pseuds/Oceanbreeze7
Summary: What Keith hadn’t really considered, was that the entire Blade of Marmora’s database regarding acceptable human interaction and norms was based on Keith’s own habits and reactions.And well…Well, Keith wasn’t truly the best example for a normal human to begin with.





	Composition

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in thanks to my delightful artist Sarapsys who brought you the fanart to the sister work of this one!

The Blades of Marmora had several main bases, scattered throughout the main pathways they frequented on missions. Due to these spread apart bases, in the case that a mission was compromised it was unlikely the main base would be tracked due to the spontaneous ion trails left by the many ships.

The tactic was incredibly smart, although did cause a lag of information from one base to the next. Not only that, but a few bases lacked general necessities or equipment and were unable to contact other main bases for assistance until a later time. Due to this problem, a failsafe had been established that after a given time, all bases would send select members to the nearest neighboring base, not only relaying status and information but also employing cargo capabilities.

Every base was not the same, bases varied on location, shape, as well as resources available. Although most bases were located on asteroid caverns or hidden pockets of space, a few bases were set underground on stable planets, taking advantage of natural fauna.

Keith couldn’t help but feel inexplicably excited as he and Antok were selected as the supply runners to the next neighboring base, over three days of travel away. Apparently, their medical systems had degraded slowly, and only now was Antok free to investigate and get the supports up and running.

Keith was being dragged along because well, Antok had taken a rather strong liking to the hybrid. That, and Keith was an excellent pilot (admittedly better than Antok himself) and if _anyone_ could navigate the asteroid belt surrounding the base, Keith could.

Coincidently, the location of the base was near where the Castle of Lions had reportedly been seen freeing various colonies under tyrannical rule. While it had been only a dozen quintents since their last encounter, there wasn’t a reasonable excuse as to why they couldn’t meet once more if only to discuss tactics and share outdated equipment.

(Antok had convinced Kolivan that the surplus supplies on the Castle ship could _vitally_ help the one base. Afterwards, Antok had sent Keith a grin that was too mischievous for his own good.)

There would be a bit of overlay from the estimated arrival time of Antok and Keith’s ship, roughly three quintents before the Paladins landed.

Keith wasn’t concerned, nor was he feeling particularly antsy. Antok had confided almost slyly, that the base they were visiting did not _only_ specialize in medical treatment; it specialized in unique weapons and combat training.

* * *

 

The medical base near the star system Jnorlux didn’t _only_ contain the Blade of Marmora’s database for various treatments of remedies, but it contained the single most extensive database for learned biological information in the entire organization. Antok had _assured_ Keith that he wouldn’t stand out- the base also contained the highest concentration of off-species or hybrids compared to other hidden locations. Logically, the data contained observational information for both baselines and social norms of species the organization encountered.

What Keith _hadn’t_ really considered, was that the entire Blade of Marmora’s database regarding _acceptable_ human interaction and norms was based on Keith’s own habits and reactions.

And well…

Well, Keith wasn’t truly the best example for a normal human to begin with.

* * *

 

The Castle of Lions found itself tucked nice and snug in a hidden gap between one large asteroid, and the cavernous pit of another. In the shadow of an absolute _behemoth_ Blue giant (which was the center of the system), the castle was almost invisible.

It was incredibly unlikely that they would be found to begin with, Allura had been reassured by the commander of the Blade’s base that the numerous sentries would notice any enemy galra activity long before in range for attack. The system was isolated, each of the small planets contained no civilized life although excellent fauna on the surface.

The team was in high spirits, feeling reasonably happy and excited to visit the base. Even when trying to hide it, everyone had an indescribable _buzz_ at the prospect of seeing Keith once more.

“Remember everyone, we’re here to assist with medical equipment and supplies if needed.” Shiro soothed everyone, voice firm although there was a noticeable high lilt on the end. Even he was nearly buzzing at the rare opportunity.

“Hear that!” Lance shrieked in response, pumping one arm in the air victoriously, “Pidge you do your medical stuff and we get to _party!”_

Shiro sighed, even unseen everyone could practically _feel_ the scolding frown on his face.

“Actually, I’m kinda curious to see what they have.” Pidge admitted, carefully swooping around one smaller asteroid before joining back in formation.

“Yeah it would be _amazing_ if we had you know, something besides the pod.” Hunk added cheerfully, pausing slightly as he scrambled to add on, “Not that there’s anything _wrong_ with the pod. It’s great, I love anything that can you know, make sure I don’t die.”

“You have a point,” Shiro soothed, carefully cutting through the rambling recovery to clarify, “It _would_ be nice to have some sort of emergency first aid, especially with how often we get nicked.”

“Well _I_ don’t get nicked. I don’t know what _you_ suckers are doing-”

“That’s because you generally _get us into_ messes where we get hurt,” Pidge dryly stated.

“I do not!” Lance shrieked in response, the Blue Lion wiggling slightly through the air as most likely Lance threw his arms up in exasperation.

“Remember the time when we were trying to find Slav, and you grabbed the galra’s pet instead?” Hunk hummed in thought, “Or the time with Nyma-”

“ _I thought we were going to let that go!”_ Lance moaned tragically.

“What about that time when you let those bull rhinos go, and Keith had to seduce some alien’s leg to get you off the hook.” Pidge piped up maniacally.

Lance squawked something incomprehensible through the coms before huffing sourly. Even Allura giggled at it.

“It’ll be nice to see Galra-Keith again,” Hunk whooped, “Even though, you know, we just saw him.”

“You just wanna play with his _tail.”_ Lance whined.

“Well, duh. I mean, have you seen that thing? It’s a whole new _limb-_ err. No offence Shiro.”

“No offense taken.” Shiro responded dryly, although undoubtedly amused.

The formation turned, carefully maneuvering through various bits of space debris before spotting the base in the distance, unusually flat with large open areas for shuttles. It looked very much like a cargo bay instead of the compact wartime bases they had encountered before.

“Aw yeah!” Lance cheered, “Finally get to see inside one of these things!”

Shiro sighed noticeably, but lead the descent.

There were a few smaller shuttles going in and out, unloading or loading various crates of unidentifiable objects. There were galra there, suited in the classic Blade of Marmora outfits, although noticeably more in strange variants of the suit.

“ _Whoa,”_ Lance breathed in awe, glancing through the cockpit at two members who wore the famous masks but were walking on _four legs_ , rearing back on thick hindquarters to wave with their smaller dinosaur like limbs.

They exited the ships, each shifting into the careful standby mode with the particle barrier up to protect any wandering hands.

“Paladins,” Someone addressed them, walking out from what looked to be the main entry into the base from the shuttle bay, “We have been awaiting your arrival.”

Allura stepped forward with an easy smile, falling in line next to Shiro politely. “Antok, it is a pleasure to see you once more.”

Oh, _now_ Lance recognized the galra; he had lead the main attack against Zarkon alongside Kolivan. He hadn’t expected the second in command so far away from the main military base- he must have arrived with Keith.

“Welcome to Base 4, or Jnorlux Medical facility.” Antok introduced politely, his voice was more serpentine than Kolivan’s, deeper too. With a slight flourish, the galra turned as if to lead the group further into the building.

Lance slowly slid over to Pidge, leaning far into their personal zone to whisper in a hiss, “Is that tail real?”

Pidge squinted at the thick tail, unique and split at the end with a dorsal fork that looked kinda like a Spinosaurus, “How should I know?”

Antok lead them masterfully through the hallways, not hesitating once as he professionally guided them through the maze-like facility. It was compact, efficient, and made of a thick grey metal that was lined with black (and the occasional purple) grooves between panels.

“This facility is focused on the treatment of injury and disease, although all contagious individuals are located on a more secure base.” Antok calmly informed them, “It also houses our organizations’ combined information for all medical and anatomical functions of intergalactic species.”

Allura perked up once hearing it “Might it be possible to exchange information? I am not certain how out of date our information is, but our libraries are quite extensive.”

Antok’s tail curled and flicked through the air twice behind him, “It will be arranged.”

“I’d love to look at your medical facilities too, I mean, the equipment must be impressive.” Pidge piped in without worry for interrupting, “I’m sure if I looked I could incorporate some into our own medical bay.”

Antok gave a hissing noise as if amused, “I was informed you may inquire such. It is arranged, as is schematics of our equipment.”

Antok’s tail curled back and with one surprised movement, pressed between Pidge’s shoulder blades and swept down to the small of their back in a single firm movement.

Pidge blinked in surprise and the oddity of the unnecessary physical contact. “Ah, thanks.”

The... _strangeness_ didn’t stop there.

* * *

 

Hunk and Lance found Keith on a training deck that looked more the size of an airplane hangar than a training room. It could easily have contained the Castle’s training simulation room four times, with room to spare.

“I could run a single lap of this thing and pass out,” Lance bemoaned quietly, balking when he saw a small group of galra doing that _exact_ thing.

Hunk gave Lance a sympathetic expression, patting him twice on the back.

They were navigating a confusing system of catwalks, suspended above the training area. They were safely out of the way, although Hunk had yelped when one laser blast soared too high and nearly skimmed a support pillar.

It was fascinating to watch them, especially the training recruits that looked _nothing_ like the galra he and Hunk had ever encountered. There were galra with long spines off their back, resembling a porcupine or a lizard. One galra had a strange thin webbing between their limbs, the suit looked especially precarious with how it was secured to their body.

Lance’s favorite was Keith’s opponent (or sparring partner), a galra with _four tentacle legs_.

(“Is he _breakdancing?”_ Hunk had whispered in awe, tears nearly in his eyes as Keith attempted to mimic the movement and failed. Badly.)

Eventually Keith noticed him. Keith did a double glance, squinting upwards before giving the smallest grin and a nod of acknowledgement. The tail behind him twisted rapidly like a dog, before freezing and arcing like a squirrel.

“Hunk I’m never going to get over that thing.” Lance solemnly confided, watching the purple limb as Keith leapt forward like a _ninja,_ throwing himself into the fight, “It’s so...so _cuddly.”_

“Lance, Lance my man. There are _knives_ on it.” Hunk whispered back, trying to snap sense into his best friend.

Lance sniffled, nearly wiping a tear from his eyes, “Hunk, bro, _I know._ He’s...he’s so _edgy._ My poor heart can’t handle it.”

Hunk wisely didn’t comment, even when Keith seemed to attack with more ferocity than before. The other galra cried something, a universal plea of ‘Uncle’ or the galra equivalent. Keith grinned, savage and pleased with light pinkish blood splattering his face and his tail-knives extended like a pissed off stegosaurus.

“I am so proud of my son.” Lance whispered in awe.

“Isn’t Keith older than you?”

“My _son,_ Hunk.”

* * *

 

It took a few hours for it to really sink in that the strange thing on the base was how _friendly_ everyone was.

Shiro had met galra before, and despite his best attempts the aliens had always made him prickle with unease.

Walking through the hallways, he would find himself subconsciously scouting the easiest escape path or the largest target. Now...he wasn’t sure.

There was a sense of strange _surrealistic_ to the galra on the base. It seemed that every sentient being he encountered would purposefully look at him and either wave (which was hard in the case of one galra who was carrying a large box), or would almost aggressively bark out a chipper _Hello!_

Shiro didn’t even know that galra _knew_ what hello meant.

It had left him effectively speechless when one galra, standing tall at over 6 feet with large grey ears and a savage scar across the side of its skull walked up until Shiro had to crane his neck to see the galra’s face, rumbled out a distorted _hello_ from its two tusks. It left without saying anything else, ignoring the fact it had to walk _five feet_ out of its way just to stand right in front of Shiro.

Shiro could only blink in bafflement before meekly offering a quiet, “Hi?” after the Galra had long since left.

* * *

 

The medical base was _filled_ with outdated technology and broken computer terminals that looked so outdated, they should have run a form of Windows on it. The medical officers and staff looked relieved beyond words when the salvageable bits were slowly repaired due to Pidge’s attentive gaze and Hunk’s intuitive knack for mechanics. Antok navigated the medical room with an aura of calm functionality, clicking his mouth from behind his mouth in an absent-minded action. His tail was _tantalizingly_ close, swaying back and forth like a temptress.

Antok chirped something to himself, entirely oblivious to Pidge’s moral dilemma. Without glancing upwards, Antok’s tail maneuvered around and grabbed a previously discarded stylus, wrapping around to tap away on the screen he was holding.

Pidge’s head snapped around to look at Hunk, their eyes wide in fascination and disbelief as wordlessly, they beckoned towards the galra.

Pidge’s eyebrows rose in a universal symbol for _‘are you seeing this?’_

Hunk’s eyebrows squished together as he squinted, holding the galran equivalent of a screwdriver between his hands. He focused on Antok, staring for a few seconds before breaking away with a shrug, silently confirming to Pidge that _yes,_ he did see it and _yes,_ it was cool as heck.

“So, ah,” Pidge cleared their throat, fiddling with the holographic screen they had been running diagnostics on, “I didn’t know that galra were that dexterous with their tails.”

Antok didn’t even look up, although he did swap the stylus to one of his three fingered hands. In one smooth natural movement, Antok’s tail snapped back and firmly ran down Pidge’s upper arm to her elbow.

They froze, an Antok blissfully ignorant of their amazement, continued the- the _petting_ for three movements before carrying on with what he was doing.

Pidge’s jaw dropped, Hunk dropped the screwdriver.

* * *

 

“Lance!” Hunk hissed under his breath, nearly snatching the smaller boy from a shadowy alcove in one hallway.

Lance nearly screamed before he recognized his friend- instantly the action was completely within the realm of normal.

“I’m losing it!” Hunk hissed under his breath, shaking Lance back and forth as his voice grew higher in pitch, “These- these tails keep _touching me.”_

Lance relaxed and with a sympathetic look, gently patted Hunk’s forearm, “Hunk, hunkalicious, Hawaiian half of my heart. One of them pulled a loose hair off me.”

Hunk paused and set Lance down. Dramatically, he pulled his arms back to tug on his hair forcefully, “How- how is _that_ worse than _this?_ Not trying to be rude, but I think I have it a tiny little bit maybe worse off with this- this _tail groping.”_

Lance nodded along, looking in thought before he very solemnly dropped, “The hair was in my mouth.”

“Oh,” Hunk whispered, “Oh you brave soul.”

* * *

 

By the time the Paladins retreated to the series of rooms set aside for their residency, nearly everyone was jumpy and on edge. Only Allura seemed calm and genuinely confused on how twitchy everyone was.

“Has anyone made you uncomfortable?” She asked darkly, looking fully prepared to take the base by storm if necessary.

“No- no none of that.” Shiro assured her, taking a brief glance around the group to make sure nobody was experiencing such things, “The galra ah, are just a bit friendly.”

Allura’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, “Friendly?” She parroted with wide eyes.

“So, uh, not to be weird or anything but ah,” Lance wiggled in place, “Any galra cram their fingers in your mouth or was I just the lucky one?”

A pause.

“Lance what-”

“I don’t under-”

“Lance what _the fu-”_

“I just mean that it was weird how this galra literally pulled a hair out of my mouth and didn’t even say anything! He just walked away!”

Shiro spluttered, “I- they only say hello!”

Pidge cleared their throat, “I uh, are they petting you at all?”

“Oh, thank quiznak it’s not just me.” Hunk looked near the edge of tears.

Allura blinked twice before sighing through her nose once, “I have not noticed any ah, _nefarious_ intentions. If any of these...advances, are unwelcome please let me know and I will discuss this with Antok.”

Pidge crossed their arms with a small frown, “But, doesn’t all of this seem...kinda familiar?”

Lance stared at them with a blank expression, “Pidgey are you telling me you’re _used_ to being probed in the mouth by galra.”

“I-” Pidge spluttered, “Oh get out of here!”

* * *

 

“You know, I think this whole scenario is ridiculous.” Lance seethed, bracing his back carefully to the large metal shipping container, “Like, the chances of this _actually happening_ are impossible. Literally impossible!”

_“For once, Lance is right.”_ Pidge chimed in, somewhere out of sight but above him, considering that’s where the boomerang shaped green blasts were coming from, _“The chances of a scenario like this are like, never.”_

_“It doesn’t matter, we aren’t training for the scenario. It’s practice for fighting,”_ Shiro scolded, sounding distinctly out of breath. There was a muffled noise, heard faintly over the coms before a loud _schhlllk_ was heard from the surrounding area.

_“Yeah! You got him Shiro!”_ Hunk cheered, Lance could almost picture the following fist pump into the air.

There was a pause, then a strangled yelp.

_“Oh- you do not have him. Ouch, ouch okay that looked painful.”_

Lance hid his snickers as he tried to keep his expression composed, leveling his Bayard and calming the muscles in his arm in preparation of peering over the crate.

“Pidge, how’s it looking?”

_“You know that crazy alien chick that choked me out with her tail?”_ Hunk rhetorically responded, sounding intrigued yet sympathetic, _“Yeah, we’ve got some creepy Deja-vu.”_

_“Don’t be dramatic, Hunk. He’s barely choking him. He’s got the dinosaur bits in the hinges of the armor, so Shiro can’t lower his arm.”_

_“Not for long!”_

There was a loud sound of sparks, once again that strange echoing metallic noise and suddenly Allura _skidded_ across the floor past Lance’s hiding place.

“Hey there, Princess. Get thrown around often?” Lance grinned, finding it impossible to tame his expression.

She glared, which meant it was time for him to give it his best shot.

“Alright guys, what’s the weak point?”

_“We don’t know.”_ Pidge dryly stated, _“That’s why we’re doing this. Because we don’t know.”_

_“All these flavors of food goo, and you choose to be salty, Pidge.”_

Lance’s lip twitched, and he twisted to rest the muzzle of his Bayard against the container, focusing down the sight as quickly as he could orient himself.

Shiro was working up a sweat, and in a strange hypnotizing way it was fascinating to see prosthesis against prosthesis, neither gaining ground or providing superior to the other.

“Alright guys, ready?”

They made equal sounds of affirmation, Allura steading herself from behind Lance, wordlessly in position. Shiro didn’t give anything away, holding in a stalemate as every limb quivered in effort.

In a smooth moment, Lance let a single accurate blast pierce the air and collide (on stun setting) to the backside of the aggressor’s knee. They crumpled in alarm, blades slipping free and permitting Shiro to finally dance away from their locked position. Hunk sent a rapid-fire blast of lower strength blasts, each quickly deflected by the flat of its sword- Pidge’s rapid fast Bayard blast was _caught,_ prehensile limb tugging around the cord before _yanking,_ sending her stumbling from the rafters _down..._ right on top of Allura.

“Nooo.” Pidge whined quietly, retracting her Bayard disgruntled. Lance only heard her because her splayed form was a foot away.

“There there,” Lance sympathetically offered, “I want you to know, I’m holding out on a bad joke right now.”

Pidge casually flipped him off, exhausted from the fight.

_“That could have gone better.”_ Hunk stated, walking out from around the pillar he had taken cover with, _“It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting to be honest.”_

_“It still wasn’t good, but there was definite progress.”_ Shiro admitted encouragingly, _“Good practice, team.”_

“Tell Keith that tail knives are cheating.” Pidge mumbled under her breath, too low for the coms to pick up.

Allura straightened, picking herself off the floor with too much dignity to be allowed, “It is a reality we face, that our opponents will have advantages. It’s wise to train ourselves against combatants that are not our usual foe.”

_“But it’s Keith! Galra Keith! You know, Mr. I-can-bench-press-Shiro-and-stab-you-at-the-same-time!”_

_“Well, his tail has knives so I guess that’s true now.”_ Shiro admitted, sounding pensive.

Allura blinked twice, “Bench-press?”

Keith appeared, peeking over the crate and down at the chaotic mess of limbs, “It’s an Earth thing.” He explained, looking and sounding _exhausted._

“Wow Mullet, you look and smell worse than Pidge’s breath.” Lance stated almost in awe.

“Hey!” Pidge squawked with a glare, whacking Lance’s leg with no real effort.

Keith looked mildly annoyed, “Lance, I was just _beating you all_ in a training simulation.”

Shiro peered over as well, his hair was plastered around his temples from sweat and he had a slight flush of exertion, “You know next time it won’t be _just_ Keith.”

“Okay but like, that tail is _freaky.”_ Hunk muttered, coming into the conversation as he squeezed his large body around Shiro to look at the group, “Like- do you, does it even have _bones?”_

Keith brightened slightly, “It has a hydrostatic structure supporting the exoskeleton of the plates.”

Pidge scoffed loudly, “ _Nerd,”_ She sang playfully.

Keith shifted his weight, awkwardly looking at his feet as if he wasn’t sure how to function with the social exchange. His tail twitched, curling up behind him like a hairless squirrel.

“Okay but like, not gonna lie, it’s pretty cool.” Hunk admitted slightly, “Can it like- you _feel_ stuff, right?”

Keith blinked slowly, “Yes?”

“That’s a lie. Keith is incapable of feeling because he is a _mean, heartless, space naked mole rat.”_ Lance groaned, slouching across the crate, wincing as his back flared in pain.

Keith tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly at the gunman, “At least _I_ wasn’t just beaten in a five on one combat situation.”

Lance huffed, “Why is Galra Keith so mean?”

“I think he’s completely normal.” Shiro interjected with a shrug, rolling his one shoulder with a small wince.

“It was a useful scenario,” Allura admitted with a respectful smile towards Keith, “Thank you for helping us with our efforts. We’ve been having difficulties with...tailed combat.”

Keith grimaced in sympathy, “Narti is difficult. I don’t know anyone with enough strength to pick someone else besides R-” Keith paused, his eyes widening and his breath inhaling sharply, “Oh. I need to make a call.”

Without saying his goodbyes to the group, Keith turned and walked off. He hiked up one of the lowered ladders up to the overhead catwalks, walking with a determined gait that was only hindered slightly in his exhausted state.

“Yep, same old Keith.” Shiro smiled, looking wistful as the former paladin vanished from sight.

* * *

 

Keith had invited them to what he described as a ‘unified maintenance session.’ that supposedly the Blades routinely took part of. Allura had brightened up and gone on a long nostalgic chat about how apparently equipment maintenance in groups were _pivotal_ for social interaction and presenting a unified front. When her eyes began to mist slightly, everyone knew they couldn’t possibly deny her the chance of joining in.

Pidge had walked in last, clutching the latest project of theirs tight to their chest as they skeptically eyed the large mass of galra spread throughout the room. Some had clumped together in large lethargic circles, seeming more at ease in the small confines than anywhere else.

It was easy to spot Lance and Allura, already seated near Keith who had his sword out and some sort of strange fluorescent liquid near him. Pidge watched a few seconds, making sure it was alright to approach.

“Pidge!” Lance cheered in excitement, practically radiating joy, “Pidgey! You will never _believe_ the stuff these guys have.”

Pidge blinking owlishly and sat down, pointedly closer to Keith than the two exuberant paladins.

“It’s simply delightful Pidge!” Allura beamed, eyes sparkling like diamonds as she brandished a nondescript purple jar- didn’t galra have anything that _wasn’t_ purple?

Hunk appeared, carrying his Bayard and a jumble of his paladin armor. It had gotten stained from something a while back, discoloring a certain area an off-putting red.

Keith blinked at the stain, tilting his head slightly sideways in an innocently curious tilt of his head. Pidge spotted Allura silently coo at the movement out of the corner of their eye.

“Hi, I didn’t really know what to bring so uh,” Hunk sheepishly sat down, armor rattling loudly. None of the nearby galra looked upset by the noise.

“That’s fine.” Keith shrugged, “I normally just clean my blade.”

Lance snickered at the unintentional innuendo, Pidge kicked him pointedly.

“Oh, cool.” Hunk looked relieved, “Is that goo uh, only knife goo? Or like, does it work on Bayards?”

Keith blinked slowly, lazily, and slid the jar over using his tail. The entire time, his hands moved in careful motions over the slightly scuffed sword.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Proprioception, how the _quiznak_ does that come into play? I mean- if you just- you have a new _limb,_ you can’t just train your brain to recognize something that shouldn’t _exist.”_ Pidge struggled to explain. After a pause, Pidge’s mouth opened in preparation to explain proprioception.

“Oh, that’s easy.” Keith responded as if Pidge hadn’t just dropped advanced anatomy and cognitive senses on him, “I’m not learning anything new. They didn’t mess with my cerebellum, I always had the sensory neurons, they were just underdeveloped.”

Pidge’s jaw dropped and her expression twisted in delight.

“What? Did anyone get that?” Lance blinked, scratching the side of his face absentmindedly.

“Yeah uh, no.” Hunk frowned, “I know mechanics, not brain surgery.”

“Guys!” Pidge hissed, looking _gleeful,_ “Baby Keith was docked!”

“What?” Allura frowned, looking at Keith in hesitation, “As in... amputation?”

Lance’s eyes were shimmering, “Guys, guys... _fetus Keith.”_

Hunk Pidge and Lance cooed in synchrony, Hunk even sniffed and wiped away the start of a tear.

“I... forgive me, but am I correctly understanding that your... _surgeons,”_ Allura’s nose wrinkled at the word, “Performed a primitive...removal, of a dorsal limb?”

Keith didn’t look shocked or upset, “Yeah, apparently that’s a big nope in Galra culture.”

Allura looked as if she had tasted something sour, “Indeed.”

When the door opened again, Antok and Shiro had walked into the room, discussing something calmly as they advanced towards the small group of people.

“Shiro!” Lance waved, beaming once more, “Did you know Galra have pore strips? _Pore strips!”_

Shiro paused in whatever he was saying before nodding to himself with a resigned expression. The fact he didn’t dignify Lance with an answer spoke volumes to what the group had gone through before.

“Pore strips?” Antok repeated, as if the verbal repetition would somehow reveal some sort of worldly knowledge.

“Stuck shed,” Keith clarified, not even glancing up from where he gently scrubbed at something black stuck in a groove near the hilt of his blade.

Antok gave a non-descriptive chirp as he folded his legs carefully underneath him, wrapping his tail around for inspection.

“Galra shed?” Lance blinked, before deciding he didn’t want to know.

Shiro looked amused by the interactions, slowly relaxing as tensions seeped away from Lance’s quick jokes and Keith’s dry sarcasm.

“It isn’t the same without you there to shut that idiot up,” Pidge chimed in, messing around with what looked like a small dental pick to get crud out from under a gear in her project.

Keith looked uncomfortable, but shrugged in a small movement that shifted Pidge from where they had sprawled against his side.

“Hey!” Lance pouted, pointing the small white brush with dripping chemicals at Pidge threateningly, “I’ll have you know that you’d _miss_ my jokes!”

Pidge didn’t even blink, “Lance do you even know what you’re putting on Allura’s hands right now.”

Lance glanced at the small brush and the white viscous liquid, “I asked a Marmorite! They said it was nail polish!”

“Claw hardener.” Antok corrected, plucking at small bits of debris trapped near the fork of his tail tip.

“Same thing! See!” Lance grinned, before his face turned serious and somewhat terrifying, “Don’t you _dare_ test me on my beauty regime.”

“You mean regimen.” Shiro added bemused.

“ _Did I stutter?”_ Lance hissed back, before leaping back into Allura’s shimmery white nails with idle chatter.

Shiro looked outspokenly shocked.

“Hey Antok, why are there claw marks all over the walls?” Pidge asked, reaching out to steal one of Keith’s knives to try and pry a panel off the side of her mechanism.

“Yeah It looks like it’s the set of a horror film.” Hunk shivered. Somehow, _somehow,_ the strange russet stain had migrated from his paladin armor onto his right cheekbone.

Antok didn’t understand the comparison but he _did_ understand what they were referring to, “The marks are indents left from stretching the ligaments within our claws.”

Keith looked intrigued, “Why don’t you just crack your knuckles instead of clawing a wall?”

“... _crack_. Your claws?” Antok looked somehow torn between bemusement and confusion.

“Yeah.” Keith, ever the one for subtly, extended his hand and with his thumb pulled his second knuckle of his index finger into his palm.

The joint _cracked,_ and Antok flinched away as if he had seen something horrifying.

“ _What?”_ He hissed in alarm, ears pinning down to his skull as his jaw opened and closed multiple times in silent horror.

Keith looked at him in confusion and with utter bafflement, cracked his middle finger.

Antok looked as if he wanted to screech, he already looked on the edge of dragging Keith towards medical.

“You guys don’t do that?” Keith’s eyebrows furrowed as he coiled his other hand into a fist, “Here-”

He cracked every knuckle in the other hand with a rapid cracking noise like gunfire. Antok paled dramatically, recoiling in disgust.

“You- _cub.”_ He sounded pained, “They- your _claws.”_

“Huh,” Keith blinked innocently, and went back to work.

Antok said something that couldn’t be translated- likely a swear word. “They still _work?”_

“It’s a human thing I guess, we crack joints because we have a buildup of gas or fluid in our joints. I never really read up much on it.” Keith explained, looking at Shiro with an expectant look.

Shiro sighed, and with his human hand he gently tilted his jaw towards his shoulder and pressed up. From somewhere along Shiro’s vertebrae, something _cracked_ with a single crunching noise that had Lance grudgingly clapping in applause.

Antok repeated the swear, stumbling to his feet while mumbling something that meant nothing to everyone except Keith.

“Did we scare him?” Lance looked sad, he had been painting his own toenails the sparkly opalescent hardener.

Pidge tore off their shoes, placing them in Lance’s lap; Lance without question began painting each of the nails.

“Oh, I forgot. Spines are important to Galra.” Keith blinking in surprise as if the idea _had_ slipped his mind, “You probably just gave him a heart attack.”

Shiro grimaced and looked sheepish.

“It’s a fascinating culture,” Allura mentioned softly, observing her shimmery fingernails, “The galra believe that the skull, heart, and spine work in unity with the body, mind, and soul. With that, intentionally destroying or damaging a spine is... _inexplicable,_ to sever the connection would be akin to...to…”

Keith nodded sagely, “I thought Antok was going to set something on fire when they found out about my tail.”

“Yikes.” Pidge surveyed Lance’s work, finding it passing, “Alright your cryptid, shoes off.”

Keith startled, “What? No.”

“Keith _yes.”_ Lance chortled with delight.

“Keith no.” Keith responded, then paused as if finding the fact, he referred to himself in third person already reason to admit defeat.

“They’re...strange.” Keith warned albeit a bit too late as Lance yanked off the military issued boots, pausing and staring at Keith’s feet with a mixture of dismay and fascination.

“I…” Lance pointed at the toes, then in the air with a wordless prayer involving the word quiznak.

“You have claws?” Hunk gaped in confusion, “Not to be mean but like, how did you _not_ know you were an alien.”

“They aren’t claws,” Keith muttered sourly, “It’s a human thing I think. Onychogryphosis, it’s like, a human thing.”

Pidge squinted at Keith in suspicion, “Isn’t that an old lady disease?”

Shiro looked on edge of laughter, his lips twitching slightly, “Have you shown them your teeth?”

“What’s wrong with his teeth?” Lance asked, voice rising in alarm as he started to amass his army of nail trimmers, files, and other claw accessories, “Shiro _what is wrong with his teeth?”_

“Nothing!” Keith defended, crossing his arms and sulking, “Leave my mouth alone!”

“If people are randomly invading _my mouth_ for a hair, then I get to invade _yours!”_ Lance demanded back.

Keith recoiled before blushing lightly, “I- no that- it was _one time!”_

Lance blinked twice, but to Keith’s relief Antok had returned with another galra in toe. The new galra, six feet of hulking _galra_ had a short stubby corgi tail and a neck like a _goose._

“Ycul,” Keith waved up at the galra above, looking incredibly relieved at the sight of the stranger, “whatever Antok told you I didn’t break a bone this time.”

The galra, or Ycul, grinned although it looked painful and barely practiced.

“Hello.” It chimed, sounding very reptilian and pleased with itself when the sound was mostly understandable.

“Hello.” Keith responded without so much as blinking, “If it isn’t so much could you maybe fix a spot by my hip?”

Ycul blinked- eyelid moving _sideways,_ before nodding its head in an undulating movement.

Keith looked relieved and far too calm to display his backside (although it may have been just to move his feet away from Lance’s grubby fingers) to a seven-foot behemoth galra. Shiro hadn’t even seen a galra that tall before, or as strangely shaped. He wondered distantly what it’s spine looked like.

Ycul lowered itself, reaching out with massive clawed arm to press down _hard_ across Keith’s back just above where his tail emerged. Shiro jolted, a shout on the tip of his tongue but instead, Keith seemed completely at ease.

His spine snapped, nearly as loud as Shiro’s neck, and for a second Shiro was struck with the icy possibility that Keith’s _back_ had just-

_Oh, Quiznak oh Quiznak._

Keith sighed in relief, straightening the moment that the massive galra removed its three-fingered hand, sitting on its haunches like some sort of strange giraffe lizard hybrid.

“Oh, right.” Keith nodded towards the group where nearly everyone (except Allura) was various shades of too-pale, “This is Ycul. She’s a- uh.”

Ycul said something which had a strange guttural hiss to it- only Coral had a chance of recreating the noise.

“Yeah, she’s like...a galra chiropractor.” Keith stumbled over the words, “but also like, a religious leader? Or something?”

“The black paladin requires immediate assistance.” Antok pointed at Shiro, his face stony, “A horrific condition ails him.”

Ycul swung her head around like something from a low budget science fiction movie.

“No no,” Shiro’s voice was high pitch as he lifted both arms in the universal _don’t hurt me I’m harmless._ “I’m okay I ah, I appreciate it but I’m _really okay.”_

Pidge cackled, “What’s wrong, I think a space chiropractor would be epic. Quiznak knows _I_ need help.”

“We all know you need help.” Lance murmured under his breath, pouncing on Keith’s feet to try and file the grotesque ridges out of the curvature.

“I’m really fine, it’s not a problem.” Shiro sweat dropped as his voice was raising in anxiety.

Ycul flickered her tongue, “Hello.” She chorused.

Shiro paused, floundering as he tentatively returned the, “Hello?”

Ycul looked pleased, and instead swung her head to peer down at Pidge.

“Oh quiznak yes.” they blurted instantly, nearly _throwing_ themselves across the floor to hit the ground on their unprotected stomach.

Ycul carefully lowered her claw- her entire palm as large as an extra-large pizza and curled around Pidge’s sides like the talon of an eagle the size of _a humpback whale._

Ycul pressed down, and Shiro saw Pidge’s life flash before his eyes.

_“Yassss.”_ Pidge hissed low, assisted suddenly by rapid noises like a series of gunfire. Pidge went limp, face pressed against the floor and pressing the bridge of their glasses hard into their nose.

“Guys I have seen the holy land,” Pidge moaned into the floor, “It’s galra worship and their godly chiropractors.”

Ycul looked pleased before pointedly lifting her giant clawed hand and staring deliberately at Shiro.

He paled, she grinned.

“You should start praying.” Lance advised with a shit-eating grin.

“I’m atheist.” Shiro choked out, his voice warbling uncontrollably.

“If this is what Zarkon’s havin,” Pidge slurred into the floor, still prone from bliss, “Then _Vrepit-Sa_ you _bit-”_

“Language.” Shiro whimpered.

* * *

 

Lance was amazed at how quickly he fit in with the galra on the base.

He didn’t quite have the medical or technology knowledge that Pidge and Hunk had, or the prosthetic topic that Shiro and Keith had with Antok.

Allura was fun to hang out with, although she steadily was becoming more and more busy as the translation failed when the galran language became too specific for general English.

Lance was left more often than not, stumbling through the corridors to investigate random rooms or what was on the base. Often, the rooms were abandoned or were storage for various boxed supplies he couldn’t read the labels.

He walked around for what felt like _hours,_ stumbling in on a few galra that seemed rather startled and wary when he poked his head in, but never said anything besides parroting a slurred but distinct, ‘hello’.

It was kinda endearing, in a weird way.

Unfortunately, his absent-minded wandering had ended with him in the current situation; with tweezers (which seemed to be universal) and sweat gluing his hair to his skin from the intense heat and humidity of the sauna, picking carefully at a collection of hardened scales trapped around a series of back spikes on a miserable galra.

“This isn’t that bad, in a weird way it’s almost kinda fun. Like popping a zit or scraping crud from under your fingernails.” Lance babbled, trying to tug away one patch of the translucent old scales with the tweezers, “Don’t feel bad about it!”

His patient, the miserable galra, hunkered itself lower, tucking its amazingly short stubby tail downwards to make himself look even smaller.

“No no, none of that.” Lance scowled, awkwardly patting the galra’s shoulder with his left hand, “Huh, you’re kinda soft. Like, I mean back home we had a bunch of these ah, iguana, and they were rough and scaly like _la palmera_ ,” Lance stuttered, reverting to Spanish when he didn’t know the name of the tropical trees, “But we had a much of these uh...gecko? _Geco,_ and they were always in our house but super soft and pretty. My little brother always tried to catch them, but they were too fast.”

The galra made a low chattering noise, not unlike Antok’s chirping vocalizations. It sounded incredibly upset, although more in the anxiety or stressed aspect.

“None of that, you.” Lance scolded sharply, “you my friend, are _el geco_ , not an iguana.”

The galra seemed to brighten slightly, unsure and still uncomfortable with the situation.

“No seriously, like, I didn’t really think of it but you all have claws. Not really that good for getting this crud off, does it itch?”

The galra hesitated before tentatively nodded. Lance grimaced but doubled his efforts with a newly determined air, “Give me five ticks and I’ve got this.”

Lance continued his mindless chatter, and slowly the galra began to relax. Lance hadn’t ever met a young or child galra, although the one he had stumbled upon in his miserable state couldn’t have been much older. His friend, a similarly scaled galra (although luckily lacking the thick spinal plates) stood nearest the door, keeping watch.

Lance imagined he stumbled in on something incredibly shameful to galra, or at least embarrassing.

“I don’t really know how scales work, like…” Lance fumbled to think, his mind racing before he could actually think of the words necessary to express it, “Like...I don’t know? I just have skin and I mean _obviously_ you have skin too but like- scales?”

Lance’s voice had risen to a high pitch, enough that the galra seemed alarmed with the sudden development. The second galra- the wingman who was watching the door snapped around and looked between the two with a growing sense of _uh?_

“Sorry sorry!” Lance squeaked out, “I mean like, I’m just Lance the uh, you know the sharpshooter and I like my skin having a healthy glow and here I am helping you out with _scales_ and just…” Lance gave a slight unsure laugh, bordering on something strangled.

The two galra looked at each other and shared a silent moment before they skittered back and both stared at him silently like yellow eyed statues.

“Uh,” Lance blinked, suddenly aware of how his hair was plastered to his skin and how his clothing was drenched and starting to stink of sweat, “...hello?”

The two galra perked and almost aggressively shrieked back, “ _Hello!”_

Lance blinked wide eyed, slightly unsure but starting to understand Shiro’s quiet admission that the friendliness of the galra was _freaking him out._

“So, uh,” Lance swallowed, waving the tweezers in the air between them, “I’m like, _almost_ done? There’s still like, _one_ of your barney spikes that has some scales stuck.”

The spikey galra grumbled something to the other, who nodded and then paused before twitching its mouth to try and slur something out.

“T-thank you?” It timidly asked although the statement wasn’t quite a question.

Lance grinned, “Not a problem, like, seriously that looked _annoying.”_

They seemed notably happier and relieved, almost surprised as if they hadn’t expected him to understand them.

“Yes, very stuck.” The galra confirmed, bobbing its head like an inquisitive lizard, “Ah, Pahladeen?”

If Lance hadn’t been bilingual, he may have stumbled over the thick accent. Thankfully, he caught on right away and instantly soothed away any sort of awkwardness between them, “Yep! I’m Lance, the B- well...I guess I’m the Red Paladin now!”

They looked at each other before peering back, “I am Aytop!” the one with the thick plates along its spine introduced itself.

“Dailli,” The wingman of the _decapheeb_ introduced back, much more at ease as it stood watch at the door once again.

“Nice to meet you, now sit down. The master needs to get this crud _off_ because as much as it itches, it’s really _really_ satisfying.”

Aytop made a low chuffing noise that sounded content or agreeing, so Lance leapt right back at work, plucking and tugging away the clusters of white until the ground was coated with what looked like tissue paper, slowly turning clear with the humidity.

Once Aytop’s spine passed Lance’s critical evaluation, the paladin leapt up with a grin and a small flourish, “Done!”

Aytop hissed a noise to Dailli who reciprocated it with a chuff. Lance tilted his head with a small frown, “Is that like, do galra have a nonverbal language? I mean like, _obviously_ it’s verbal but like, it’s a lot of noise and I was curious.”

“Yes!” Aytop nodded, “Desert _oepdylis_ ah, speak with not words.”

Lance paused, “And, uh…. Oh- oye- oh-dye-lees, are uh...a _type?”_

The two galra glanced at each other in a strained look, before looking back at Lance, “Shahrp-shooteer?” it struggled to pronounce.

Lance winked and lifted his hand in a little mock gun. “Bang.” He grinned; a drop of sweat tickled as it went down his nose, and dripped over his mouth onto his chin.

The galra perked, “Bang!” They echoed back with a strange look of excitement.

It turned out, that both scaled galra were being trained in weaponry.

See, generally the only experience Lance had with galra firearms were when he was on the other side of the sight-lines. It was somewhat interesting to hold one of the massive weapons in his arms (heavier than he thought it would be), to test out the firearm and the strange lack of recoil.

“Huh,” Lance blinked in surprise, passing the weapon back to Aytop before he drew his Bayard, his rifle materializing instantly. Both galra eyed it with looks of awe, humble beyond their galran chirping.

“Wanna check out my guns?” Lance smirked, wiggling his eyebrows for good measure.

* * *

 

They managed to plow down a dozen targets. Both galra were _young,_ Lance hadn’t ever thought that he was _that good_ at combat compared to natural pro’s like Shiro, or Keith’s literally _insane training schedule,_ but well…

The galra were...they were _bad._

They were young and incredibly awkward, short nubby tails twitching like a dog whenever other older galra hissed or clicked something at them- although galra with fur tended to ignore them.

Huh, maybe there was some sort of segregation of galra based on physical appearance. Wasn’t like Earth had been like _that_ at all.

Besides that, Lance gave them a few tips he had learned. It was strange to see galra so... _clunky,_ yet the base _was_ for honing combat skills so it made sense that Lance hadn’t ever actually met any untrained Marmorites. Lance wondered if these two had even been _inducted_ yet.

Dailli glanced around before stiffening sharply, nudging his friend (maybe his training buddy? Sibling?) sharply with a low noise.

 They two jolted, instantly tensing and watching with what Lance recognized instantly, as the ‘hero-eyes’.

So, who had… Ah, there.

There was a new galra prowling around, if not for the slow calculated movements of the newcomer, the Blade of Marmora armor stood out as someone of authority. That was a strange thought, Lance hadn’t ever thought of the operatives as well, being in places of _power._

The second thing Lance noticed besides the slightly prehistoric gait of the galra, was _Oh wow that’s a really scary tail._

Well, it wasn’t _scary_ per say, it was just well...thick and looked like it could do some serious damage. Then again, Lance probably had developed a phobia or something about tails thicker than his waist because of Lotor’s quiznaking _creepy_ general.

Lance shivered against his will, and almost on cue the black and glowing purple mask swung around and seemed to lock eyes with Lance.

The one galra- Lance couldn’t tell which one, gave a loud gulp of worry.

The galra began to stalk towards them, it’s tail was an off blue shade, like slate grey or...periwinkle.

On second thought what the quiznak _was periwinkle._

The galra was very clearly stalking towards Lance, and the two galra (maybe they were like, cadets? Or the equivalent of?) were slowly growing more and more tense and well, freaking out.

Huh, no wonder they had been so stressed when Lance just popped in on that sauna.

“Hello,” Lance waved, the galra tilted its head and somehow through its body language, Lance got the impression it was _very_ amused.

“Hello,” It responded politely, its voice clearly understandable but a prominent hissing undertone.

“What’s someone like you doing so far out here?” Lance asked with a wink, “Here to check out the _firepower?”_

Its tail curled behind it like a chameleon, “No, I was called here. Kolivan brings regards.”

Lance’s smile started to falter, “Is there something wrong? I can grab Shiro really quick-”

“No, little one.” he hissed back in a distinctly amused sound, “I have feeling you will not be happy with me soon.”

Lance fought the urge to fidget, “Uh...why?”

The galra seemed to...cackle? “I was called to help with combat?”

“Oh no,” Lance groaned, throwing his head back to hit the back of his neck, “Well, you can’t be any worse than Keith and his _quiznaking_ knife-tentacle.”

The galra snapped its tail around, somehow- _somehow_ snapping the end like Allura’s Bayard whip, sending an attention-grabbing _snap_ that made the two galra trainee’s whimper in a low noise.

“I am Regris,” he introduced, tail tip coiling and curling with enough dexterity to send a sense of dread deep into Lance’s heart, “I trained Keith with his tail.”

Lance looked at Regris’ tail with a foreboding wry smile, “You taught him how to use the knife-tail?”

Regris twitched slightly, “He selected spines himself.”

Lance puckered his lip slightly, chewing on the inside of his cheek in consideration, “Yeah, that sounds like him. Why are you scaring the newbies over there?”

Regris seemed to look over Lance’s shoulder, although it was hard to tell with how his mask hid his features.

“They are kits,” Regris dismissed as if that was explanation enough, “I was selected by Kolivan himself.”

“Ah,” Lance agreed with a slight nod, “You’re going to beat us up, aren’t you?”

Regris’ tail tip curled like a chameleon, “Well,” he sounded _amused,_ “we’ll see.”

* * *

 

They managed to gather Team Voltron later that day, only after prying Pidge away from the internal mechanisms of a space copier crossed with a playdough workshop. She had hissed like a feral cat, only relenting when Allura had used her superior strength to physically carry her back to their shared bedrooms.

Regris was polite, although something about him seemed oddly mischievous as if he was waiting for an opportunity. Lance didn’t trust him, he seemed too like someone who would prank his room or spike his food with spices.

Shiro and Allura apparently knew about Regris, which wasn’t surprising considering how often they interacted with Kolivan on mission reports. Pidge had only heard the name in passing, apparently Regris was...well, he was one of their best fighters and data infiltrating missions.

Fighting Regris was something entirely different. Lance understood instantly why he had been brought in- the style of combat was painfully similar to Narti’s own style although it was improved in a way Lance couldn’t explain.

Where Narti had alternated between physical combat and wide powerful blows, Regris used his tail as an extension of his body. Sure, he could do powerful hand to hand combat, but he used his tail with _far too much control._

At this point, Lance wouldn’t even be surprised if the galra could aim and fire a gun with his tail. It was that freaky.

They had decided to try fighting one on one, working to get themselves familiar with fighting an opponent with such tail control. Narti had...Narti was devastatingly strong, if only because they hadn’t ever encountered or had experienced a tailed opponent.

Not saying that the rest of the Goon Squad _weren’t_ dangerous, that flexible rainbow general who did more flips than a gymnast was a pain, especially with the spontaneous invisibility she kept fluctuating between.

But for now, they were watching Shiro get creamed and wincing in sympathy when Regris smacked him around like a flyswatter.

Hunk winced, “You can do it Shiro!” He shouted over the distance, wincing as once more, Shiro was knocked aside.

“I feel like…” Pidge paused, trailing a single gloved finger on the floor, “I don’t know, do you think we’re going about this wrong?”

Allura looked unsure, “The castles training simulators do not involve tailed bipedal opponents. We...Altean people never adopted such physiology.”

“I mean, when fighting Zarkon we don’t see many tailed galra either,” Hunk shrugged as he watched once more, Shiro stumble to the ground, “maybe that’s why Lotor keeps that one around.”

“That would be a good idea, like, If _I_ was a crazy lunatic traveling around the universe, I’d want to have someone protecting me that people underestimate. Like you Pidge, you’re small and cute but would without a doubt, kill a man in his sleep if he touched your stuff.”

Pidge shrugged, “I mean you’re not wrong.”

Allura frowned, “I believe it is in our best interest to continue learning what we can here before continuing on. We rarely are permitted such opportunity.”

Shiro gave a roar and with a sudden unexpected move, Regris was sent skidding across the ground like a deer on ice. Shiro grinned, smiling breathlessly as his chest heaved in exhaustion.

“You got this space dad!” Lance screamed, whooping in victory as Shiro threw back a small thumb up before jumping in to counter Regris’ punch.

They continued until both Regris and Shiro were trembling from the effort. They paused, taking a break and drinks of water that Allura had gathered before the training session began.

Regris folded his legs carefully, his hips and thighs slightly larger in proportion to his upper torso.

They hadn’t been taking a break for long before they heard a clatter from above, a pale smiling face looked over the overhead boardwalk with a small wave.

“Oh, there’s mullet.” Lance squinted upwards, “Hey didn’t you say you beat up edgelord here for a living?”

“What?” Pidge spun and looked at Lance in surprise, “Wait- _wait.”_

Regris instead gave some sort of strange signal, an undulating motion with his tail and a small flick that must have meant _something_ , because seconds later Keith was looking around with a recognizable look on his face.

“Oh no,” Hunk whined, “That’s his impulsive face.”

“What? Mullet does _not_ have an impulsive face!”

Shiro looked up exhaustedly before closing both eyes, “That’s his ‘I’m-going-to-do-this-without-thinking-of-possible-ramifications,’ face.”

Lance paused, “Oh, oh yeah he does have that face.”

Regris didn’t seem alarmed, instead everyone watched with various amounts of disbelief and fondness as Keith quickly decided that climbing over the railing until he was hanging by his hands over his head and dropping the thirteen-foot gap to the floor was the best course of action.

“Think he’s gonna do a ninja roll?” Pidge asked lazily, one eye open as Keith hung for a few seconds.

“Superhero landing,” Hunk mumbled back, watching carefully as Keith shifted carefully before dropping.

Keith landed fluidly, like he always did, and bounced on his feet as he approached the group, looking exposed and hopeful as he spotted Regris.

“Regris?” Keith asked, tilting his head slightly as the other galra looked over his shoulder lazily.

Regris’ tail was twisting absentmindedly, although Keith’s was looking much more...lively.  It reminded Lance of a dog.

Keith shifted on his feet, and cleared his throat quietly. Regris paused before shifting his entire body and hoisting himself off the ground despite his tired state. Keith’s eyes brightened as he shifted his weight from the balls of his feet back to his heels.

Regris paused one second, before almost in slow motion taking a swooping step forward; his feet were strange and angular, lacking toes.

Keith’s face twitched into a small delighted smile, Allura’s eyes sparkled as she leant against Shiro watching the scene with glee.

Regris lowered himself low, being obvious with his body language. Keith’s tail had stilled entirely; for being emotionally closed off, his tail was an open book.

Regris pounced, Keith skittered back and the next thing they knew the two galra were a flash of purple and blue and pale human skin scrambling over the floor.

If not for the occasional glimpses of Keith’s wide grin or exhilarated flush, Shiro may have been concerned for the strange growling and hissing noises.

Regris finally stopped rolling when Keith had somehow managed to get his _teeth_ around Regris’ neck directly over the cervical vertebrae.

Shiro stumbled to his feet, “Keith what-”

Pidge was faster, “Keith what the _hell.”_

Keith blinked twice before he stumbled back, scrambling away from the larger galra and tugged his thinner tail free from where it had trapped Antok’s own in a loose grip.

If Keith had pulled that with anyone _except_ the guy who was going to (in the near future), beat the snot out of Lance repeatedly, well, Lance would have dropped a few choice words, likely the word _‘kinky’_ and a wink.

But sometimes Lance had impulse control.

Instead, he just asked in a baffled high-pitched voice, “ _bro.”_

Keith flushed slightly and looked down at his feet, tail whipping around once more.

“I do not understand.” Regris admitted, looking between Keith and the Paladins with an uncertain tilt in his body, “I... I apologize for actions in public space. Puerile activities are encouraged in our culture.”

Keith spluttered and Shiro coughed sharply as if he had heard wrong.

“I... apologize, I believe we overreacted given how it appeared.” Allura soothed carefully, jamming her elbow sharply into Shiro’s chest, “In ah, in human culture the... _image_ of biting another is...very unsightly.”

Hunk blinked and just shifted unsure, “It’s uh...bro.”

Keith flushed and stared at his feet.

Regris looked back at Keith and then the group, terribly confused. “I... I am not understanding.” He admitted after a pause, “It is...unacceptable for play?”

_“Play?”_ Lance squeaked, “Dude, that was like, some weird roughhousing, like, I have tons of siblings but that was like-”

“ _What?”_ Keith hissed under his breath irritated, “Alien roughhousing?”

There was an uncomfortable pause and Regris once again looked between the two, inhaling before exhaling heavily.

“In our culture,” He started, sounding exhausted in more ways than one, “It is instinctual behavior to invite others in aggressive play, as both relaxing and training.”

“Oh,” Lance blinked, “Huh, well...that makes sense.”

Regris looked like he was dealing with a group of thickly skulled children, “We invite others with sound,” here Regris made a noise that was very obviously, someone clearing their throat.

Keith looked at Regris in surprise, “Wait really?”

Shiro looked equally surprised, “You do that all the time.”

Regris tilted his head back as if to stare at the ceiling before he continued, “Nipping and biting is normal and encouraged as assist in development in vocal musculature.”

Keith looked uneasy as he shrugged and mumbled under his breath, “ _Rest in pieces, pens and pencils.”_

Lance snickered before making eye contact with Keith, “Hey, hey- _hey,_ wanna take a bite out of _this_ delicacy?”

Keith’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, and his tail arced behind him in a stiff movement, the spines flaring out perpendicular.

Regris tilted his head, “Okay.”

Keith stretched himself calmly, and despite not having any armor he didn’t look any less serious as he challenged out “All of you, vs Regris and me.”

Lance choked and nearly coughed on his spit.

Regris fell in line, standing next to Keith. Despite the height difference, the two looked very, _very_ familiar with each other.

“Quiznak.” Pidge moaned into the floor, “Lance I _hate you.”_

Lance felt weak as he shot everyone a thumb up, ignoring the glares, “You guys are _amazing!”_

* * *

 

They lost. Badly.

* * *

 

Shiro groaned quietly as he relaxed back onto his bed, not as comfortable as the castle but it sufficed.

“You sure you don’t want me to call Ycul?” Keith hovered in the doorway, hesitating before entering the room or leaving him for the night.

“Keith, if you call that woman I will lock you out and never let you back in.” Shiro groaned, voice muffled into his pillow.

Keith’s mouth twitched as he folded his arms and leant against the doorway, “You sure? Nothing is better than a galran back massage.”

“Her hands are _bigger than my leg.”_ Shiro cried into the pillow, _“_ Nothing Keith, _nothing_ with hands larger than a _watermelon_ is allowed near my spine.”

Keith laughed, a soft little noise that was infectious and soon Shiro was laughing into his pillow as well. The older man sat up with a wince, patting the bed next to him.

Keith paused a second before he walked over, tail swishing behind him and adjusting instantly as he hopped onto the bed, fiddling with the black gloves over his fingers.

“I’m sorry, about before.” Shiro started, voice quiet but sincere, “I was worried that Regris may have hurt you. I hadn’t thought that it was play fighting.”

Keith shuddered slightly at the idea, “...yeah. I ah, I don’t know. It’s...nice.”

Shiro felt something in him break as Keith looked incredibly young and uncomfortable, how often the other had gotten into fights in his youth…

“Well,” Shiro started with a small smile, “I never minded sparring. You’ve gotten really good, it’s amazing how much you’ve improved.”

“Really?” Keith’s head snapped up, eyes searching but secretly pleased, “I uh, Regris has helped a lot.”

Shiro chuckled and shook his head slightly, “I’m not going to lie, that galra scares the quiznak out of me.”

Keith seemed amused by the slight quirk of his mouth, the long tail swayed gently beside him, “The first time I was supposed to train with him, he beat me up using _only_ his tail.”

Shiro snorted so loudly Keith scowled and playfully shouldered the older male, before leaning on him slightly.

“So, what new things have you figured out?” Shiro asked, nudging back gently to jolt Keith subtly.

Keith paused before looking at Shiro with a slightly guarded expression, “About the coalition? Not much, I haven’t been in the field recently, only when Regris clears me is Kolivan putting me back in.”

Shiro rolled his eyes, “I was asking about what _you_ figured out. I know astrophysics, but ah, maybe I know some science terms also?”

Keith’s eyes narrowed as he pulled away slightly, “You’re asking me if I’ve... _experimented_ around with my tail?”

Shiro paused, “well…yes.”

“Oh,” Keith paused, fiddling with his fingers and nubby nails, “I mean, I _have_ but I’m sure Antok knows more.”

“Keith you’re the first human to have a fully functional _tail._ You have to recognize that it’s pretty cool.”

Keith flushed slightly, looking at his hands while attempting to hide a smile, “Well...yeah it’s cool. It’s actually really cool.” Keith muttered, almost embarrassed in a way, “I mean, I have a _tail.”_

Shiro chuckled low, reaching up to ruffle Keith’s hair- it was getting rather long. Keith ducked down, trying to escape Shiro’s abuse.

His tail flickered up, coiling twice around Shiro’s wrist, prosthesis against prosthesis.

“If you’re not yet cleared for field duty, you should come back to the castle with us.”

Keith’s eyes widened in surprise, “I- but Antok…”

“Antok and I already arranged a meeting soon, to go over _this_ mess.” Shiro motioned towards the galran arm, eerily stationary and locked near his side. “It wouldn’t be a problem to just join back up with the Blade then.”

Keith’s mouth twitched, “Is this joint custody? I haven’t had _that_ happen before.”

Shiro paused, his jaw dropping in disbelief before a snort and small giggle left him curling, “Keith- _Keith,_ you can’t just-”

Keith grinned, the faint lines around his eyes smoothed over and for once in a while, he looked as young as he was. He cleared his throat, an unconscious gesture that Shiro had known all too well although _now,_ well.

Thanks to Regris, Shiro didn’t feel the slightest bit awkward about tackling Keith off the bed.

  


 

  
  
  



End file.
